


Mutant Kids

by SomethinglikeGoodnight



Series: A Whole Room of These Mutant Kids [4]
Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Abusive Parents, Abusive Relationships, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Domestic Violence, Drug Use, Dysfunctional Family, Family, Family Drama, Family Issues, Fights, Fist Fights, Friendship, High School, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, Multi, Near Death Experiences, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sex, Suicide Attempt, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-01-30 04:51:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12646458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomethinglikeGoodnight/pseuds/SomethinglikeGoodnight
Summary: What happened before.





	1. The First One

**Author's Note:**

> lmao guys ya'll though this series was over well sike
> 
> Happy Birthday Ty guy :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my friends it's me, back at it with another story!   
> I think you'll like this one.

There was a time in my life, when I was 

Happy

Loved

Funny

Friendly

Charismatic

Smart 

Successful

Bright

Normal. 

 

That time, I'd say...lasted a mere...ten years?

 

 


	2. Pete part one

"So, how many for eight grams?" The sophomore asks me nervously, wringing his sweaty palms and I smirk 

"150." 

"What? B-but-" he splutters, looking at least one third more confident and I cross my arms over my chest. 

"That's the best price you'll get in this school, take it or get the fuck out of my face." 

It’s really not the best, I’m just pulling a few strings for this particular bratty boy. 

The kid frowns in thought, and backs away slightly so I roll my eyes and start to walk away. 

"wait!" 

I spin around on my heel as if one cue, with a shit eating grin as the child scowls at me and yanks his wallet out of his pocket. 

"Well?" 

"I only have 125." he sighs, handing me the pile of crumpled money and I count it, he's not lying. 

I pat him on the head and give him the bag, shoving him slightly as I walk away. He seems shocked, gasping out and undoubtedly gaping at the small bag in his non-calloused soft hands. I'll take 125, even 100's a rip off for this cheap ass pot. I'm usually more friendly, but this kid is an ass kissing freshman who used to sell nicotine filled vape pods to seventh graders for way too much. 

Its disgusting. 

I'll hustle a hustler. 

I'll do whatever the hell I please. 

he deserves it, the little shit. In his blue under armor hoodie and his big innocent eyes. The world's been handed to him, and I bet this isn't even his money. allowance. I've never gotten an allowance so I'll take his. Privileged little white boy trying to look cool. It disgusts and amuses me. 

I snicker and walk back into the building, walking to the school's cafeteria where my friends are most likely waiting for me. Just a huge school filled with dick sucking, ass kissing pieces of shit. Fuck this patriarchy I won't get anywhere starting from here. 

No one has. 

This place is small and dingy, a mediocre building they call  school. there's barely enough room for the teachers let alone the students. A high budget, but they don't spend it on the students if you know what I mean. 

I mean they spend it on stupid shit the teachers want. 

That's what I mean. 

"Pete!" a soft feminine voice shouts and I ruffle my hair as I approach the welcoming sound. 

"Hey baby." I growl, grabbing the blonde's waist and pulling her to my side. 

"Where've you been?" she sneers, baby blue eyes piercing into mine and she's a southern softie but man is she scary. 

"Just makin a kid's dream come true babydoll." I say as smoothly as possible but her eyes lower and her grip on my shirt loosens.

"More deals? I told you to quit fuckin with those underclassmen they're getting sick." her bottom lip juts out and I sigh deeply, trying not to roll my eyes.

"Hey baby relax, it's cheap pot they aren't getting sick it's just a bad high. I'm getting cash, getting that paper to buy you pretty things." 

She pouts, looking me over and she sighs, giving up on arguing far too early then normal. it's odd. 

She's been arguing less, as if she’s scared of losing me. 

I wonder why. 

There's been rumors about us, about...me. 

I'm not willing to deny or confirm them. 

It's none of their business. 

"Whatever you say honey." she sighs, combing the golden blonde out of her face and stepping up on her toes to face me better. 

"it's all right sweetie nothin's gonna happen." I smirk, tilting my head to meet her's and the table behind us erupts in whoops, hollers and wolf whistles. 

"Shut it you lot!" I bark, looking over Avery's shoulder with a scowl and they do, inching down and going back to whatever they were doing before. 

She grabs my chin and pulls it to her face. "don't focus on them, eyes here." she purrs and I pull away at the sound of my pager dinging. 

"Gotta take it." I mumble to her displeasure and pick it up to see another offer. 

"A freshman. I can tell my your smile baby...I'm warning you." Avery says, hands on her tiny hips and I shrug my shoulders. 

"It's alright I'll give him just a lil of the better stuff." I promise her and jog out the doors. 

I hear a disapproving tut behind me but I just shake my head and start to slow through the halls, making it to the nearest bathroom where another stupid kid awaits. 

 

If you can't tell already, my name is Pete, and I'm the biggest drug dealer in New Trier High School. I'm the class clown, bad boy, druggie, star on the varsity soccer team, you name it, I'm it. 

Troublesome? Of course. 

Devastatingly handsome? Wouldn't doubt it. 

Man whore? Ask around they'll all agree. 

I'm the greatest thing this school has seen since the ice cream machine four years ago. 

 It wasn't always like this, I used to be a total nerd. Putzing around the school nervously with only a few friends. It was a more difficult time, then. I didn't know  who I was, or what I wanted to do. Now I have a better idea, and it doesn't really include selling pot but it does involve using it recreationally. 

I was a short little nugget with too large glasses and zero experience with girls so don't even ask. 

Well, just look at me now. 

The biggest, most powerful senior in the building, by far.

I don't fit a cliche, far from it. I'm not Bender, or Andrew Clark. I'm not a druggie or a Jock. I'm the best of all of them, and I don't fit a label. I have hobbies, sue me. Those hobbies may be illegal, but it's what the people want, and I'm not gonna deny them that. There's no problem with what I do, it's just all I know. Drugs came to me as an escape during my Sophomore year, and I've never went back. They've never failed me, and I've never failed to get them. 

I have my plugs, and I distribute. There's no harm and no foul. 

Kids know me, they like me, I'm a friendly guy. 

I try my best to uphold a nice image with the younger guys, I want them to look up to me. Not necessarily replace me, but look up to me. And as for the kids closer to my age, they know, and they won't tell because it ain't affecting them and even if it was they still wouldn't do anything because I'm not someone you want to start something with. 

People are either nice to me or they keep their distance. 

And that's quite alright. 

After selling a small amount of Indica to some freshman, a little blonde girl this time, I waltz to the double doors at the entrance of the school and take a breath. 

Should I have done that? 

Yeah, of course. She wanted it. Paid for it herself she said. She was cute. Big blue eyes and silky straight wispy white blonde hair. She was smiling the whole time, nervous, but smiling. tucking her hair behind her ear and looking up at me from her small stature that I easily towered over. I don't think she expected me, and by that, I don't think she was expecting a well groomed senior with a clean white smile and nicely styled hair. I think she was anticipating some scraggly dude in an over sized hoodie and eye bags. 

I think she was pleasantly surprised by my appearance. 

I think she just got a crush on me. 

I expect her to page me again real soon. Might make some fun with her. She seems like a good girl. 

Much like Avery was.

I smirk to myself and sit on a bench in the rotunda, tapping at my phone and ignoring my texts from Avery trying to persuade me to come back to lunch. 

_Ave: when r u coming back???_

_Me: I'm omw_

_Ave: How'd it go?_

_Me: Just a little girl, she was cute._

_Ave: don't get any ideas Peter..._

_Me: I won't, promise._

Like I'd ever go after a freshman, who does she think I am?

_Ave: ily_

_Me: ly2_

I roll my eyes and get up, sighing loudly and picking up my feet to return to the lunchroom. It was a lot of work, being me. I somehow manage to juggle a sports career, drug abuse, school, and a girlfriend all at once and that honestly baffles me immensely.It's exhausting. 

Wake up at six, get to school by seven, classes all day, in between deals or deals in between. Soccer after school, more deals. After I get home I do homework, and calculate deals, counting cash and doing the math behind running this "service". Then when that's done I call Avery and eat dinner, going to bed anywhere from around 10-2. 

It's a tricky lifestyle, so thank god it'll be over soon. 

Thank god I'm a senior. 

Thank god this shit hasn't come back for me just yet. 

Back in the cafeteria, Avery hangs on me while I try and get some shit done for my chemistry class. I don't have to take it, but I do anyway. I could do any elective, photography, study hall, art. But no, I take chemistry for some fucking reason that's beyond me at this point. 

"C'mon baby, all the chemistry you need is with you and me." Avery interrupts, playing with my hair and I chuckle.  

"you know I gotta finish this to get a good grade point average." 

"Mmmm." She mumbles, leaning her head on my shoulder and I inhale, looking at someone across the room. 

He's sitting alone, tapping away at a laptop and adjusting the too large glasses on his face. He's got light hair, blonde, and a thin face with big lips. 

He's a really attractive guy.

I get a explicit image flashing through my head and I shake it off as quick as I thought it. 

What the hell was that?!

I sit back against the wall and take a deep breath, Avery removing herself from me with wide eyes. 

"what?" 

"what?" I retort, moving my gaze from her to the other side of the room. 

She whips around, "who's got you eye?" her tone is accusatory, not playful. 

"no one." I say way too fast and she scowls. 

"Pete." she says carefully, "You don't have to lie to me." 

"I ain't." I spit, looking her directly in the eyes. She's always like this. So paranoid. 

Those rumors are going to kill me. 

They're going to ruin everything I've worked so hard for. 

"If you say so." her voice is gentle, accepting in a way, and she backs away from me and closes her mouth, lips drawn together tightly. 

"Ave-"

"-Just, do your chemistry." she says quietly, turning to talk to one of her girlfriends and I sigh and shake my head. 

I glance up again. 

And he sure as hell has caught my eye. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pete's chapter will have a part two whenever I decide to include it thanks! <3


	3. Patrick Part One

“There’s not much to know.  About me I mean. Just a short, stout, little blonde boy with no direction.”

The woman looks at me almost unamused, tapping her pink painted nails on the old wooden desk.

“I-I play music, though. I play a lot of it. I write some too, I write a lot.” I stutter out, looking for satisfaction or something in her gaze. 

“Is that all, Patrick?” She sighs, “there must be more to know about you.” 

“I...I don’t want to be on medication anymore.” I say quietly and she looks at the papers in front of her. 

I don’t remember her name. 

I don’t really know her at all. 

“Patrick...” She says in a disappointed sort of tone. 

“I’m serious.” I interrupt and she ignores me. 

“We can’t do that hun.” She says, pretending that she knows me, that I’m a good friend of hers. 

“But I hate it.” I complain, picking at the lint on my sleeve. 

“You’ve been doing so well.” 

“I don’t feel any different” 

“there’s been improvement.” 

“I can’t tell.” 

“Well others can” 

“is that the point?!” 

She stops, giving me an incredulous look at the fact I just yelled. 

“I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I rush out, looking at the floor and she sighs. 

“It’s ok Patrick you can express your feelings here.” 

“Doesn’t seem like I can.” I mumble, looking up quickly to see if she heard me. 

“Patrick you know that you’re here to talk.” 

“Then why do we only talk about how to fix this? Only about medication? We never actually talk. It’s just discussions about getting better when we haven’t actually made any progress.” 

She purses her lips, doing the thing she does when she knows that I’m right and she doesn’t want to admit it. 

“We can talk about you.” She mutters, looking me dead in the eyes with almost golden irises. 

“Then let’s talk about the fact I get called a ‘fat fag’ at school everyday, yeah?” I say just out of spite, regretting the words as soon as they leave my lips. 

“Oh Patrick...” She says in her I care about you voice “why didn’t you tell me?”  

I roll my eyes “you never asked.”

“Well...what would give them the urge to say things like that?” She asks uncomfortably and i just stare at her. 

“I don’t know, maybe because I’m overweight for my age and like dick?” I ask rhetorically and she stares at me in disbelief.

“You never said-“ 

“that I was gay? Thought you’d figure it out.” I spit, immediately covering my mouth and looking up at her. 

“I’m sorry I don’t know why I’m being so rude today I’m sorry I’m-“ 

“-Patrick Patrick it’s fine, ok? I don’t mind.” She smiles for once, scooting forward and pushing light brown locks out of her face. 

“Ok.” 

“So tell me, how and when did you come out?” 

I blink. 

“Uh. I didn’t really plan it I guess.” Blush rises to my face and I pushing blonde hair behind my ears. “I um...got with a guy at a New Years party last year and that’s kinda all that happened.” She nods as I say this, looking at me intently. 

“Are you still in contact with him?” 

“Uh...no I don’t really see him at all. He’s in college now.” 

Her eyes widen “Oh I see.” 

“Yeah. I didn’t really like him that much anyway he was just very attractive.” 

He really was. 

He had dark curly hair trimmed at the sides, a black septum piercing, and light blue and gray eyes.

he really was a sight. 

And I don’t know why he chose me. 

It was at a pretty crowded party, kids everywhere and the darkness contrasted by bright party lights. I had a huge crush on him as a junior, and he was a senior. He was fucking gorgeous and I couldn’t even tell if he was straight or not. 

Appatently he could tell I was gay as hell because the second people started chanting down from five he made his way over to me and at one I was in his arms and kissing him, poorly I might add.

I was nervous, sue me. 

He was so hot, and so what I was looking for to start the new year. 

But sadly it didn’t really last, and one hookup led to about ten more and then he got busy with school and college and we haven’t talked since. 

But I don’t really care. 

He wasn’t that nice anyway. 

“So it doesn’t bother you, the absence.” 

“No.” 

I wasn’t anything to him, I was a toy. And he wasn’t anything to me. He was a distraction and I was a game. 

“You don’t ever see him?” 

“No.” 

“So why do your classmates have a problem with your sexual preference?” 

I feel like that was a dumb question so I tilt my head to the side and sigh “i don’t know, they don’t understand, it’s not the norm and maybe they think it’s gross?” 

“I know that teens can be tough, and i know kids can’t understand certain things. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t change their minds, or at the least just make them stop.”

”how could I do that?” I raise an eyebrow and she sighs. 

“Ask your friends to help.” 

 

As I sit down at the lunch table I pop open my pill case, taking out a few tiny blue pills and a couple white, popping them in my mouth and washing it down with a fizzy sprite. 

“Patrick I told you how gross it is to mix those.” A nagging voice says behind me. 

“Let me live my life Em.” I joke, looking over as she sits beside me and tucks a hair behind her ear that had come loose from her ponytail. 

“It’s nasty man.” 

“Not nasty.” 

“Ok.” She rolls her eyes. 

“Hey now.” I fake pout and take a bite of a cold grilled cheese. 

“So...it was Thursday yesterday.” She says, putting her bag down and leaning against the wall. 

“And?” 

“Therapy?” She looks at me like I’m dumb and I inhale. 

“Ohhhh, it was ok.” 

“Elaborate?” She raises an eyebrow and I put my sandwich down. 

“I told her about Ben, and how schools been shitty because of it.”

”Ben? The college guy that was a perv?” 

I look at her with a dull face and she shakes her head. 

“Sorry sorry.” 

“Anyway, She was like ““why do people make fun of you for being gay?”” And I was like ““are you dense?”” 

Emilie laughs, opening her bag and getting out a sandwich “well that was a pretty dumb question.” 

“Yeah well she said I should get you and the rest of the guys to help me get people off my back.” 

“Well I’m sure we could try...” she sighs, giving me an apologetic look and I smile. 

“Oh shit Emilie don’t look now.” I snort into my grilled cheese as she searches through the cafeteria to find what I’m talking about. 

“What? What are you-“ she stops. “Oh no no is it too late to run?!” 

“Hey Emilie!” A boy with black hair and glasses says shyly, coming over to us and standing awkwardly. 

“Hi there pal.......” she drags out, waving slightly and I wiggle my eyebrows at her. 

“So um, did you by any chance take the notes for AP bio today?” He scratches the back of his head and hes actually being really admirable right now for having the balls to talk to her like this. 

“Uh yeah, yeah I did.” 

“Could I maybe borrow them? You don’t have to give them to me now you could always text me.” He says, searching in her face for something she’s clueless about. I look behind him to see a few boys watching, obviously his friends and obviously going to roast him if he strikes out.

“Yeah dude if course, I’ll just email them to you.” She says nonchalantly, completely unfazed by this adoptable Asian kid trying to make a move. 

“Could I maybe have your phone number?” He asks and Emilie opens her mouth but doesn’t say anything. I nudge her and give her a look that says ‘say yes you fucking idiot’ and she sighs, turning back to him and reaching for his phone. 

He looks at her in amazement for a moment, staring at her hand and she makes a face. 

“Are you going to give me your phone?” She asks borderline rudely but he just scrambles to get it out of his pocket and hand it to her. 

As she’s typing I look up at the kid who’s bright pink and wink, to which he looks surprised, then scared, then excited as Emilie hands him his phone back. 

“Thanks, I...look forward to talking with you.” He smiles and backs away, finally turning and fluffing his hair as he approaches his friends who all give him high fives and claps on the back.

Emilie turns to me “What the hell was that?”

“That was a boy showing interest in you.” I say rolling my eyes and she shakes her head. 

“Nope.” 

“Yes.” 

“No way.” 

“Yes way.”

”Well then.” She seems a little suprised “i don’t like him that way though.” 

“You should give him a chance.” 

All she does is grunt in response, taking another bite of her sandwich but I take notice as her eyes follow a certain group of boys with facination as they leave the cafeteria.

”Anyway, what are you doing after school?” She asks, and I shrug even though I’m incredibly excited for the thought of after school. 

“I’m just going to record some stuff on the soundstage.” 

“Really?” Her attitude changens and she becomes intrigued immediately “what are you recording? A new song?” 

I shrug again “it’s not a big deal.” 

“Yeah it is man, it’s incredible.” 

“Sure.” I say sarcastically, rolling my eyes and finishing my grilled cheese.

 

The hallways after school are a whole lot more empty, and a lot more quiet then anyone could ever imagine. Sure there's clubs and sports going on but he music hallway is honestly incredibly silent. 

I tuck my folder of lyrics and chords farther into my side as I walk, looking around even though I have a right to be here, Mr. Rodgio said I could. He left the room unlocked just for me. 

I open the doors to the huge music room and close them behind me, spinning around on my heel to take in the completely empty room, everything is for me to use. It's at my complete disposal. 

Granted, I can only play about three or four of these instruments well, I have my voice, and I have back vocals and some instrumental in a hard drive. 

I unlock the door to the recording studio and put my stuff down, sitting on the stool and turning on the mic. I'm not recording anything yet, just resuming the playback so I can warm up.

There's footsteps in the hall, almost making me want to turn the music off but I don't, whoever it is they'll go away. The play back continues to roll and the instruments start to play. 

I hear my voice. 

I sing along, mimicking my torn and messy vocals and I sit and lean back, taking comfort in the space and relishing in the safety of my own little world. 

That is, until footsteps become louder and louder and he stops singing, opening his eyes and looking around the room frantically, the music still playing around him. he'd have to go outside the booth to turn it off, and that's a whole lot of trouble to go to just so someone won't hear it. he's proud of it, anyway. 

There’s someone in the room, no, two people, and they turn to face Patrick in the booth. It’s two boys, tall and well built and Patrick tilts his head. 

“Can I help you?” He shouts, putting down his guitar and walking to the door, opening it as they come closer. 

It seems that it was the wrong move, because when he does he sees that they’re holding knives and have smiles far from nice plastard on their faces. 

“Hey faggot, we came to hear your tunes.” The taller one with brown hair says, there are earrings in his ears and a rip in his leather jacket. 

“Uh, please don’t come any closer.” Patrick chokes out, feeling for his phone that he had of course left outside of the booth.

”why not? I thought you liked boys? You like it when they touch you, don’t you?” He sneers, flicking open the knife and Patick swallows.

”look, I don’t know what you want. I haven’t done anything I-“

”Yet. You’ve already corrupted Ben. We can’t have anymore faggots in this school. It’s disgusting and unholy, you deserve to rot in hell.”

Patrick almost pissed his pants.

these people wanted to hurt him. 

It was obvious. 

There was no reasoning with these people. 

“Cmon man just, don’t hurt me.” 

“We ain’t gonna hurtcha.” The other boy coos, pin straight hair stuck to his forehead. 

“Yeah, were just gonna teach you a lesson.” The talker says, gabbing Patrick’s shirt with one hand and punching him in the face with the other one. He doubles over, stumbling away from the boy with a fearful expression. 

“Cmon you fat fuck, fight back!” He yells, coming at Patrick with the knife and he does, slamming his fist into the guy’s nose and he bends down, letting Patrick kick him in the knee and he falls, the other boy stepping up and grabbing his arm, twisting it behind him. 

“Get up Taylor!” He screams, the other wiping his face and standing straight. 

“You’re dead meat faggot.” He snarls, stepping closer and Patrick hollers for help, encouraging the boy to kick closer the studio door and Patrick is left with the sound of the boys laughing, and his own voice singing to him as his skin is cut and torn and his face is beaten bloody. 

The boys leave when they’re satisfied, kicking his body while it’s down and shutting all the doors behind them, Patrick having no strength left so he lays on the dirty fading carpet, crying painfully dry tears as the track plays over again. 

 _“Go boy, go boy, run for your life_  
Go boy, go boy, run for your life  
Go boy, go boy, run for your life.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Gerard and Mikey Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep in mind he is supposed to be a very confusing person so half of this monologue will make no sense you'll thank me later

It’s odd that the wall reminds me of it's presence as my face is slammed against it. I had remembered it being there but something seems off about the situation I've gotten myself into.

"YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT!"

Oh, I remember now.

The gruff voice belonging to another senior screams in anger as the hands belonging to him grasp my hair and yank. 

With a smirk on my face I look back at him. "BETTER NOT REFER TO YOURSELF AS SHIT YOU'LL START TO BELIEVE IT!" I holler in retaliation and no, he doesn't like that. 

There's another smack as my cheek hits the brick and I cough, hoping something comes out but my throat is dry. 

"DON'T YOU FUCKING SAY ANOTHER WORD, FAGGOT!" he screams and this I can work with. Its ironic because were fighting about a girl, one I allegedly hooked up with which makes the whole situation more hilarious. She isn’t even cute, tacky even. Short blond hair and almost black eyes. Juicy couture wearing white Bitch and her beef cake over here is only a worse male version of her. 

He's tall, and thinner then me but really who isn't at this point, so I have the opportunity to grab his arms and flip him over me, using little strength to move his flimsy body and he's the one that hits the wall this time, grunting in pain and he turns over to me with an ugly scowl. 

“You aren't going to win this." 

"Awww," I say, kneeing him in the stomach and watching as he drops to the ground with a moan and wince. "I think I already did." 

"Fuck you!" He yells, nursing his stomach "Fuck you Gerard Way!" 

"Not if I fuck you first." I mumble under my breath with a chuckle.

Yeah, I’m gay.

I’m gay as hell.

These bitches don’t know, none of them except Mikey and I’d like to keep it that way. Ill pretend to hook up with a worthless slut if it means my secrets safe. 

Openly gay + overweight = target for bullying. It's a simple formula that basically everyone in high school knows, god, middle school even.

I don’t need that kind of attention in my life I already have voices in my head that do that for them. I already have slits on my body; pointless "battle scars" from a pair of dissembled scissors that Mikey had forgotten to take out of my room when I was going down to the place. Fucking cuts are just little bleeding lines to prove worthless "battles" no one but myself will care about in a few weeks. It’s pathetic. I’m pathetic and I don’t need anyone else letting me know. 

I don't want anyone to know. 

It’s a stupid concept anyway. 

It doesn't take much, to cover up small cuts. It's what all the kids do I'm no different. 

they're not cuts unless they bleed kiddos, they're not cuts unless red drips down your arm and scabs layer your skin and leave white lines you see for months on end. They aren't cuts unless you cry and stain your sleeves and dull your knives because you aren't trying hard enough to be suicidal.

So before you go on mutilating your body, better go ahead and do it like a man. 

Because men hurt themselves to feel better. 

Right? 

I didn't ask for this.

As I’m walking back into the school from where I was rudely interrupted during an important smoke in the bathroom I spot the girl. 

Shes leaning against the staircase with a cigarette tucked between her delicately painted chipping pink nail polish, her dried out hands flanking from the cold. 

The whole fight was about this girl. 

The fights are always about girls. 

The funny thing is I don't even care about them, they're a waste of my time and only good for head and neck and all the same thing you use different words to describe different types of sex. But it's all sex, and it's all meaningless if I have a say. 

But it always about sex and girls.

Well not always about girls, because when I get my hands on cheap pot and cigarettes from one of the local druggies here; Fred or whatever and sell it with no knowledge of what's in it. But sadly, bad trips make bad kids angry. But that's not my fault, no, none of this is. It's never my fault. 

I'm mama's perfect little angel. 

The angel that's been suspended more times then you can count on two hands. 

I've fallen from heaven if that's the case. 

fallin off and into hell. 

Shes convinced it’s the other kids, that I’m picked on because I’m different, and I’ll stick to that story if it means not getting caught. 

I chuckle to myself once more and round the corner just in time for the classes to end, kids flooding into the thin halls lined with lockers no one uses. 

Wake up. 

I look around in searching for a familiar face I want to walk to my car with. Mostly because he needs a ride too and because we live together. 

Once I spot him I cup my hands around my mouth and yell. 

“MIKES!” 

He spins around, face melting into something that transitions from fear to relief and he makes his way towards me through the crowd of pushy kids all trying to escape this hell. 

“Gee where were you I walked past your bio and you weren’t there.” His eyes are suspicious, looking over my bruised face with something like caution. He’s so young, so so young and he doesn’t understand and he never will. But he notices, that’s something that he does, he notices and he takes note and that’s great but I wish he wasn’t always looking to me because I’m not the best role model.

“Can’t you guess?” I raise an eyebrow and his brown eyes drift down to my knuckles. 

“Gerard.” He sighs, dragging out my name. 

“Sorry Mikes.”

“I just don’t understand you.” He sighs in a disappointed way and I hate it. 

“Hypocrite.” I spit back and he seems offended.  

“Excuse me?” 

I give him a look, “you think I don’t see you coming home with bruises and black eyes? Look alive Mikey I’m not dense.” 

He closes his mouth and looks at the ground. His submission to me is adorable. 

He gets so scared. 

 “I...I didn’t..." He closes his eyes and starts walking out of the school. 

"C'mon Mikes, I didn't mean it like that." I grab his arm to slow him down and he turns to me.

"I guess I learned from the best." he sneers, brown eyes turned black and they're lowered at me. 

Wow. 

That stings. 

"You know I can't help it." I argue, walking out onto the sidewalk with him. 

"I know that, I'm sorry." He mutters, looking sorry and he pushes the thick blonde locks out of his eyes. 

My idea. 

"It's ok."

It is ok, he's fine he shouldn't have to apologize about something he hasn't really grasped yet. 

I  _can't_ help it. 

It's not an excuse, or just a joking way of saying I have a temper. 

I do have a temper. 

I have anxiety 

I have amnesia

I have mood swings 

I have impulsivity  

And my personal favorite, self destructive tendencies.  

It's called "dissociation identity disorder", and I'd rather be dead. 

The rest of the way we walk in subtle silence, Mikey playing with his hair maybe two thirds of the time.

"If you touch your hair one more time I'm shaving it off." 

He whips to look at me and his face is nothing less then terror. "You wouldn't." 

"You're right, I wouldn't," I roll my eyes, "Mikey you gotta know when I'm joking man." 

"I...I knew you were joking." he stutters, face turning bright red. 

"It's me Mikey." I say gently, putting an arm around his shoulder and he nods, not looking at me. 

"I know that, I can tell ya know." he says with just a little bit of spite. 

 "Ok, I just...I wanted you to make sure you can talk to me right now." I say quietly and he sighs. 

"Now I feel bad." 

He doesn't have to tell me I obviously know he feels bad. 

"You don't have to I get how you feel." I say, trying to keep the conversation going because I really do want to talk to him about this. I know I'm hard to deal with. It’s a fucking curse that’s what it is, not shapeshifting, not a alter ego, it’s voices in my head and blacking out from stress. 

I hate this. 

I hate them. 

Shut the fuck up.

“So...what was the fight about?” He gives me a side glance and I scoff quietly.

“what was yours about?” I gesture to his knuckles that are scabbing over and crusty will dried skin and blood. 

“It was just...I don’t know.” He shrugs and I raise an eyebrow. 

“Sydney?” I ask and his cheeks heat up again. 

“Overheard some asshole talking shit about her.” He mutters. He needs to get over this girl she isn’t even going to matter in a few months. 

I look at the sky and close my eyes, Mikey stays quiet. 

“Gerard?” He says almost silently from next to me. 

“Mhmm?” 

“Do you think mom and dad are going to send you away?” The question comes out of nowhere, literally pops up out of the thin air in front of me. His tone and the straight up fear in his voice strike me suddenly and I stop walking. 

“What?” 

He wrings his bruised hands and looks at the grass under him. He knows he knows everything and he isn’t telling me. 

“I mean, like, what if they send you away?” His eyes are big and almost glossy like a child’s. He changes the do you think to what if and it does absolutely nothing to calm me. 

He is a child. 

Children shouldn’t be the way he is. 

And it’s all my fault. He’s feeding off me and now we’re feeding off each other for love, sympathy, attention, things we can’t find ourselves. 

“I...I don’t know Mikey, are they?” I ask in a shaky but strong voice. He looks at the ground and plays with his hair

It’s a choked off noise that comes before he clears his throat to speak. “Mom, she was talking about it the other night when Dad got home, they sounded so serious I’m scared Gerard what will happen to me if you-“ 

“-Hey hey hey.” I grab his shoulder and stop him, pulling his lanky frame into mine. “I’m not going anywhere without you. I’m not leaving you anywhere by yourself ok?” 

He nods, looking unconvinced and we keep walking, the silence no longer comfortable. 

Are my parents sending me away? 

I haven't been that horrible have I? 

Did they find out about the pot? 

Did the school send an email? The fights were usually secluded and no one found out unless someone snitched, but my parents never said anything about that. 

Wait, where am I even going? Juvie??? 

Oh my god I can't go to juvie, I can't the kids there are  _bad_ I can't be around them. 

Mikey looks over and holds my arm. "Gee are you ok? You look like you have a fever!" He halts from where he’s been walking and grabs my shoulders. 

“Hey hey hey Gerard!” He yells and I steady myself, clenching my teeth. We’re in the parking lot, people can still see us, the weird brothers and if I faint or do something dumb they’ll all see and I can’t have that. 

“Don’t touch me!” I yell, throwing him off and stalking towards my car with hands in my pockets. 

“Gerard I-“ 

“-You’re not helping!” I scream over my shoulder, shooting daggers at him and he scurries along behind me.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers and I know he is.

I know he’s sorry.

but I’m not in an accepting mood.

”Mikey shut your mouth and get your ass in the car!” I holler and he does, stumbling into the passenger seat and I fling myself into the front. 

He sighs quietly, covering his mouth with his sleeve and I watch. He doesn’t want to make noise, to disrupt my mind and I lighten slightly. 

My thighs itch as I drive, scratchy boxers against scabs and I cringe and turn the wheel recklessly. 

This wasn't supposed to happen oh my god. 

What's my age again comes on the car's radio and Mikey quickly shuts it off, avoiding my eyes. 

No sound. 

No sound at all. 

He knows, he's practically trained for this. 

When we get home he scurries up to his room and I slam the door behind me, making a beeline for my mom's office in the back of the house. 

"Mom?" my voice cracks when I peek my head in from behind the door and she swivels around in her red armchair, perfectly groomed and beautiful. 

I don't look like her. 

I never will. 

"Yeah honey?" her eyes skim over me and her small smile falters as she grazes past my half limp and bruising knuckles. 

I'm such a disappointment. 

But since when did I care?

"I...are you sending me away?" 

Her face falls, going pale and she opens her mouth but I don't need words to know what's going on. 

You're a part of me, always. 

"I can't believe you!" I scream, tears stinging my eyes like vinegar and I blink them back to prevent pain. 

She stands up slowly "Gerard I-" 

 "-No! I don't want to hear excuses! Are you seriously going to fucking send me somewhere?" I yell and she covers her mouth with a hand, eyes staring at me intently. 

"Gerard." she whispers. I don't think she's ever heard me say fuck. 

"What mom? What could I have done to make you...I just...where? Prison?!" I hear footsteps running downstairs and fuck. I've scared Mikey. The walls are practically shaking from my fury 

Her expression softens immediately, and her eyes wander to the door as though she's heard Mikey as well. 

"Prison." she chuckles softly, approaching me and I drawback. "Why would I send you to prison sweetheart?" 

I close my mouth. because I'm a monster. 

I decide to hide from her the fact I'm a delinquent and speak as though I don't know what I'm doing either. 

"I...where else would I go!" I start screaming again and footsteps in the hall become a thud. Mikey has fell. 

He'll be fine he just gets scared sometimes. 

"Your father and I were going to tell you later, explain it to you. I don't even know how you-" she pauses. "Michael James you can come in." she says quietly and Mikey comes in quickly and quietly. His glasses are back on, I assume the contacts were hurting him again. Anything to prevent the bullying he says. 

"Michael did you overhear your father and I talking the other night?" Mikey stands behind me but not close enough to make contact. He hates the name she calls him. 

"yes." he whispers and my mother pinches the bridge of her nose. 

"why would you tell him if you didn't know the whole story?" she crosses her arms and Mikey whimpers and I don't know why I'm being talked about as if I'm not in the room. 

"I don't want to be alone." is all he says, posture hunched and eyes swollen and I fucking feel so bad for doing this to him. 

He wouldn't be like this. 

It's them. 

"Well I think you'll be happy to know you won't be." Donna sighs and I perk up. 

"Excuse me?!" My voice is jagged and doesn't sound like me but miraculously it is. 

"You two are going to be sent together, to an institution for boys." 

what. 

excuse me, what? 

My mouth drops open and Mikey sways beside me, if I yell he's going to faint. I don't care.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!" I scream, throat hurting from the force and down Mikey goes like a paper thin domino and no one goes to help him. It’s normal enough and it’s not like he’s in danger or anything. He’s healthy, he just has a habit of getting Too worked up. 

"I'm sorry honey but we've talked it over many times and-" 

"THAT'S BULLSHIT IM NOT INSANE!" I bawl, finally dropping to Mikey and picking him up easily. He's so thin. 

"Gerard calm down." 

"NO IM NOT GOING TO FUCKING CALM DOWN YOU, YOU BITCH!" I yell and immediately regret it because the second it leaves my mouth I'm out the door and into th hallway with Mikey dangling in my arms.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might fix this tomorrow I don't really care at this point lmaoooooooooooo

**Author's Note:**

> So this is going to be a collection of each character's backstories. Which means that each chapter will be a part of their live growing up, or at least before the hospital. I don't know how long this


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